Clearing my throat at that image, I ask, “So which bed am I sleeping in tonight?”
Funny how suddenly that question isn’t scary anymore, after everything we’ve just talked about.
I have an idea it’s the one on the left, since that’s where Elliot and Sebastian are and they’re the ones who are, apparently, going to be making me come tonight. My thighs clench together, eyeing the space between the guys that is most likely meant for me.
Sebastian pats the empty space between him and Elliot, then tosses the covers back—I’m glad to see he’s wearing pajamapants—and stands to allow me to slide in. When he resettles himself in the bed, I realize that even though it’s a big bed, we’ll definitely be touching all night.
Sebastian hands the TV remote to Lukas. “Why don’t you try to find something?” he suggests.
“This is impossible,” says Felix, and he sounds so annoyed that I have to assume he’s picking up the conversation they’d been having while I was in the bathroom. Wow, that feels like a million years ago now. “Even if we can find one of our shows, we’ll be watching episodes out of order.”
“Who even watches live television anymore?” asks Sebastian.
Lukas continues to flip through channels, not staying on any one for too long, and the whole time I’m just waiting, wondering when they’re going to decide that it’s time to touch me.
I’ve never been a fan of surprises. They just stress me out. Would it be weird for me to just ask the guys to start touching me? Or maybe I should touch them first? Are they trying to find a show because they want to watch something, or just to fill time? They have a lot on their plate with the competition starting in the morning, so maybe they want to relax, but the schedule said we were going to hook up tonight, so I don’t know what to think.
“Let’s just watch this,” says Lukas, pausing his clicking on a show about how things are made.
“Is this the first one in a season at least?” asks Felix.
“They’re all individual standalones, you don’t have to have seen any of the other episodes for this one to make sense,” says Lukas, exasperated.
“It just feels better when we watch things in order, though,” grumbles Felix.
“Sometimes things are more interesting when they’re out of order,” I say.
“Is that true?” asks Felix, suspicion lacing his voice.
I shrug. “Honestly, I have no idea. I also prefer to do things in order,” I admit.
At least my addition to the conversation lightens the mood. They all chuckle, and Felix stops grumbling as we all turn our attention to the TV. Or, well, they all do. My attention is still very much on the touching that may or may not be happening soon.
Both Sebastian and Elliot slide down the headboard until their heads rest on the pillows. I feel silly sitting up with them lying down on either side of me, so I do the same. Sebastian pulls me in until I’m tucked into the crook of his arm, and I don’t know what to do with my own arms. I finally just tuck them in close to me, between our bodies, though I want to stretch out and hook one around his waist. But I’m not sure if I’m allowed to do that.
Once I’m settled in and stop moving, Elliot scootches closer and molds his front to my back, resting his own arm along the top of my thighs beneath the blankets. The tips of his fingers hover and tease at the bottom hem of my sleep shorts, almost tickling my skin, but in a good way. A really good way.
My arms are falling asleep, wedged between my chest and Sebastian’s. I have to move, and if they’re touching me now, maybe I’m allowed to touch them back. Only one way to find out.
“May I touch you?”
Sebastian tilts his head to look at me. “Of course you can touch us,” he answers, sounding surprised.
It’s a relief to stretch my arm across Sebastian’s waist and feel the solid warmth of him beneath my hand. I begin to mimic Elliot’s subtle touches on my thigh with my own fingers on Sebastian’s side, exploring every inch of Sebastian’s stomach.
Every few minutes, Elliot inches farther underneath the bottom hem of my shorts, exposing ever more of my own bare skin to his exploration. Every brush of his fingers has me closer to holding my breath. At some point his fingers will brush theedge of my panties, and hopefully even farther, finding the spot where my desire is pooling between my thighs.
I have completely lost interest in the television and its explanation of how sweet corn is tinned due to the hard bulge pressing against my ass. Even as my body wants to wiggle against it, I hesitate. I want more, but I’m not sure how to ask for it.
I’ve been hoping one of them will show me how to take this further, but they’re both just letting me explore as much as I like, Elliot’s fingers touching me but not where I want them. I suppose I’ll have to take matters into my own hands. Quite literally.
Taking a deep breath, I slowly inch my hand down to the waistband of Sebastian’s sleep pants. The fabric is soft as it brushes against the side of my pinkie. I slide my hand across his skin again, until it bumps against something that is definitely not fabric. I move my hand again, lifting the sheet a bit until I realize what it is that I’m touching, and my hand snaps back up to a spot above his belly button.
There, tucked into the waistband of his pants and visibly sticking out, is the head of Sebastian’s cock. I’ve just touched a bare cock for the first time in my life and it was only sort of on purpose.
Did Sebastian notice the way I jerked my hand away? I hope he isn’t offended. I was just surprised.
“You can touch that too, if you like,” says Sebastian, his voice gruff.
